Broken Hearts, Branded Memories
by neophobia
Summary: After watching his house burn down to the ground, and his brother walk into a fire, Kobra Kid runs. But his brother can't be dead, right? He has to find him. - Based on Gerard Way's Killjoys.
1. Of Loose Notes and Radios

"Traffic Report: 0

This may be a reason for you to rejoice yet, but that means there's big plans. Travel together, keep 'em close, and your guns closer. Die with your mask on if you've got to.

* _static is heard, by a followed butchered urgent*_

Zone * _static again, and a soft said fuck*_ -lled with Dra- _*static again*"_

 **— Traffic Report, Jet Star, Fun Ghoul and Syanide Gift's radio.**

* * *

"Oh man, oh man.

Where do I start telling this?

I guess, the beginning would be a good place.

But first, let me give you background information.

On them.

Them is BL/ind. apparently, the BL is an acronym for Better Living, and ind. stands for industries. But I don't believe that. They're called Blind, because they make people to blind to what's happening around them. They shut down your emotions — load you with shitty-ass heroin or any other drug that, a couple years ago, would have been illegal.

I guess it is to be expected from a capitalist country like America though.

A summary of what happened would be a business got too big for the government to squash, so it squashed the government.

The main city is — was — California. I only say was because, now it's not called that. It's called Battery City, and it's run by BL/ind. To 'apparently' produce batteries. But I know they produce more than that. My brother, Gerard, used to help them make bombs there. Him and this kid, who he called Korse. That was when I was ten, and Gerard was fourteen. He was underage, and what happened shouldn't have."

 **— From the Diary of Michael Way**

* * *

"Ghoul! Wake up!"

"Ngh?"

"They're bombing the fucking Zone!"

"Which?!"

"Zone one!"

"WHAT?"

"I'm serious! The traffic report just came in, with the urgent music and they dropped the bombshell faster than BL!"

"There's kids in there!"

"I know.."

"We have to go save them, or else BL will get them, and you know what'll happen if they do!"

"Two minutes away from the car, Syanide heard that?"

"Heard, roger that!"

"Heard!"

 **— A conversation during the BL bombing, that took place between Jet Star, Syanide Gift and Fun Ghoul.**


	2. Death is a Myth

They needed to test a firebomb. On a house. They chose an abandoned area close to where they lived at that time. What wasn't known was, that at the same day Korse and Gerard had decided to sleep in this same house. Mikey woke up, a loud sound thundering in my ears. Stumbling out, he saw the house his brother was in ablaze, the fire reducing whatever it touched to ash. Mikey ran. He didn't even think. He ran. Behind me, the house he had just been in seconds ago roared. Turning around, he saw it too ablaze. Their house was much more flammable — made from grimy wood with a thatched roof, and within seconds he was homeless. Hot tears forced themselves out, splashing on my naked chest. Everywhere he looked, he could see more and more bombs being tested. On houses with actual residents. He saw his closest friend — Pete, he was called — exit the house, heading to me, his body covered in fourth-degree burns. Mikey grasped him, trying to force him against the floor, his own brain shutting down the image of what I saw. Pete's hair was gone, his fingers and toes blackened, falling apart like sandstones. His eyes were burned open, and when he had finally rested, they turned lifeless. His chest stilled, and Mikey witnessed his first death. He didn't cry. Nor did he bury Pete. His brain simply did not absorb the fact that his best friend was dead. He was too much in shock and denial to accept that all his friends were exiting the houses to rejoin in a heaven which would remain sealed to him for decades more.

Getting up, still confused, Mikey saw a teen running towards me, in an odd, gazelle-like lop. As the male scooped me up, he fought back instinctively, but relaxed as a familiar jacket covered his exposed body, and he was enveloped in a familiar musky smell, disguised under all the smoke. "Mikey," Gerard's voice was unusually authoritative. "When I put you down, I want you to get the fuck out of here. You're not safe here. I'll follow you, but I have to bring Korse first." What? What, what?

Clenching his brother's arms, tears starting anew as his brain finally conveyed the fact that the first house Mikey saw burn down, and the house his brother was in were the same, he shook my head. "I-I'm-" a familiar hand _**silenced**_ him too quickly, as if Gerard had known how he was going to respond that whole time. "You will." It was an order, and Gerard's orders were something Mikey could never refuse.

Mikey ran. He ran like he'd never ran before, his heart pounding against my ribcage. He was panting, in ragged breaths, shaking as he ran on. He had his head turned around the whole time, his eyes following Gerard's hunched body as he ran into the fire. They widened when the house burst. Literally. He could see logs of charred wood fall all over, like blackened rain. Gerard...

His brother...

Was dead...

No, no, no, no, no! This can't fucking be! There's no way his brother would fucking die! Gerard was the strongest boy he knew! Why would he die? It was Gerard!

"G-Gee?" Mikey choked out, my voice coming out as a pathetic whimper, stopping, waiting for a figure to appear through the flames. But- nothing did. Gerard was dead. There was no way he was alive. Not through this mess.

Turning around, Mikey forced his tears down. Gerard wanted me to be elsewhere. He couldn't just stay here, Mikey would be dishonouring his memory like that. But at the same time, he didn't want to be further from Gerard than necessary. Who was going to bury his cremated body? Mikey's ankles shook, and he collapsed onto the rocky ground, hands on knees, projectile-vomiting everywhere. His hair fell between his eyes, and he shook and sobbed like there was no tomorrow. His sobbing started of with shaky whimpers, but now it was a long, hysterical howl of "GERARD!"

BL/ind. killed Gerard. They killed Mikey's brother. He didn't know why, but he knew that they did, and he was gonna find out why, and he was going to extract my revenge on them in the most torturing way that ever existed. No-one fucking messes with the Way brothers. Standing up shakily, he walked ahead, no longer running. Where to? He don't know. Picking up a shard of mirror, from one of the blown-up houses, no doubt. He looked at his own reflection, and fresh tears sprung anew. His hair was matted, around his ear in messy clumps, his eyes dull, dirt smeared all over him, and his features graced by the tiny-teeth smile. /He was a splitting image of his brother./

Clenching the mirror's shard, so hard that blood flowed from gashed capillaries, tainting the smiling image of Gerard, Mikey saw, he proceeded. And he had no choice but to keep the shard, not because he wished to renew the memories of my dead brother every two seconds, but because it as a weapon would be pretty useful. Snakes, humans, everything could turn against him, the same way world did.

Mikey ran again, turning around, until the smoke couldn't be seen, and until his legs gave away, and he cut his knee with my own shard. Blood spilling on the floor, and he was lying on top of it, panting, thirstier than ever. His throat was sandy, and his continuous crying had left salty streaks across my cheeks. He licked them up, and gagged, the thirst increased. Mikey was shocked, and a part of him refused to believe Gerard was dead. Sitting, he forced myself around, waiting patiently for his brother to return.

Because Gerard wasn't dead. He was just resting between ashes, and he was going to return soon.

* * *

 ** _This is really rushed. I'll probably rewrite it at some point, but for now I'm okay with it._**


End file.
